


Midnight's Crown

by berryboys



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Power Imbalance, Royal Advisor Johnny, king donghyuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21893677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryboys/pseuds/berryboys
Summary: If Donghyuck ever provokes a war, it won't be because of his political decisions. It will be because men are greedy, and greedier when it comes to carnal matters, and Donghyuck is a small, treasured sweet that everyone wants to taste.Johnny wants him too.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Suh Youngho | Johnny, side yumark
Comments: 76
Kudos: 725





	Midnight's Crown

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi!  
> it's past 2am so i dont have words to describe this fic - or to think at all. i will let it speak for itself  
> i hope you like it, vivi ♡

No one is allowed to see the prince naked.

Through the window, the moonlight illuminates Donghyuck's back, his silky doublet slipping down his shoulders and falling back on the floor. Johnny has always loved that doublet, a blue, smooth piece of clothing that sticks to Donghyuck's body like a glove, garnished with strands of silver over his neck and his waist.

It's one of his most humble doublets, and that’s the reason it has become Johnny's favorite. Donghyuck is a Prince, but under his façade of arrogance, there’s simplicity as well. Displays of gold and fortune on his clothes don't fit him, because gold over gold can't shine. And tonight, with his clothes seamlessly piling up on the floor, Donghyuck shines the most.

Johnny's breath hitches at the view, but he’s not allowed to lift his head, and so he leads his gaze to the floor again. Donghyuck has always liked playing games with him – not only with Johnny, but also with his guards, with other princes and princesses, and with a terrifying amount of dukes as well.

This doesn’t come off as a surprise. When Donghyuck summoned him to his room, no excuse to offer, Johnny had suspected that his intentions weren't innocent. Johnny was right, and after Donghyuck had strolled around his chamber for a couple of minutes, calmly stripping for him, there was no room for doubt.

“May I call one of your servants, Your Highness?” Johnny mutters, avoiding the temptation to admire his figure.

But the temptation hovers over him like a beast about to clutch him with his teeth, and Johnny fears, because Donghyuck is his prince, but even if he wasn't, he could manipulate any man with one glance alone.

Donghyuck doesn't respond. He raises his chin, throws him a malicious, elegant look over his shoulder, as though he can read every one and all of Johnny's thoughts. The distance between them accentuates Donghyuck's coldness, how unattainable he is, but there's fire in his eyes as he observes Johnny.

A prince brimming with fire could never be a good king.

“I don't need a servant,” Donghyuck retorts. With an appalling lack of shame in his movements, he turns around, his feet softly pressing over his clothes. Johnny catches sight of his thighs for a fleeting second, round and delicate, skin glinting in the darkness. “I'm already naked.”

Even through his clothes, Donghyuck's curves have always made Johnny crazy, and it's physically painful to fight against the urge to devour the boy in front of him. Donghyuck is perfectly crafted from head to toe, pampered by a whole life of care and servants looking after him. He’s made to rule, but somehow, he’s also made to love.

Donghyuck provokes him on purpose, revels in Johnny’s inability to tear his gaze away from the floor. He has enough courage to do it, but he's not allowed to. Donghyuck would never punish him for it, but the King would, and in the palace word runs faster than diseases, faster than war. Johnny can’t take the risk.

Johnny swallows, petrified as Donghyuck steps forward with such small steps that they seem to be waiting for Johnny's weakness to show. “Your Highness, what did you wish me here for?”

Donghyuck doesn't like the question.

That's the only reason he backs away, like Johnny's words are a subtle rejection, like it _offends_ him. Princes are never put in his place, because their place lies over everyone else, high where no one can touch them. Donghyuck would never pressure him if Johnny was uncomfortable, and even if it hurts him, Donghyuck withdraws along the remainders of his pride.

Donghyuck grabs the night gown lying on his bed, a soft white piece that contrasts against his skin. Johnny watches him while he easily covers himself, familiar both with his exposure and, like it has to be, with preserving his intimacy.

“I felt lonely,” Donghyuck answers, no trace of hesitation in his voice. He faces Johnny, looks into his eyes as he crosses his arms over his abdomen, closing the gown with his hands. “Were you busy?”

A counselor can't be busy if he's required, and Johnny has no remedy but to shake his head in deny. Only if he was with the King or the Queen, would he be able to reject Donghyuck's invitation.

“No, Your Highness,” Johnny responds.

Just that.

Donghyuck analyzes him with a once over, his clothes, his hair, the semblance he's sporting, and he stops on the sword cleanly sheathed in his belt. Johnny doesn't know what Donghyuck finds there, but he doesn't look pleased.

He sits on the edge of his bed, white against white, and Donghyuck is all Johnny can see. It would be so easy to press Donghyuck against the mattress, to fuse his gown with his sheets, to drown in the white that surrounds Donghyuck and drown inside him at the same time. It would be so easy to pretend, but it would be impossible to forget.

Donghyuck draws a smile for him, as though Johnny's thoughts transpire through his silence.

“Stop addressing me formally,” he warns Johnny. He never lets it show on his face, but it bothers him that Johnny speaks to him like he's a prince when they're alone. Donghyuck is aware of his position, would crush anyone that dared to disrespect him, but it's always been different with Johnny. “The guards can't hear you.”

Keeping the formalities is a deliberate choice, and that's what Donghyuck ignores.

“I shouldn't.”

The glint in Donghyuck's eyes shift to seriousness. Two rejections in one night aren't welcome.

“Did I make you so nervous that you have the need to set rules between us?” Donghyuck spits at him, running out of patience. His voice doesn't waver anyhow, and it's scary how accurate his accusation is, how he's been trained to read men in a matter of seconds. “It will make no difference.”

Donghyuck will still toy with him, because that's what Johnny is to him. A toy. A man to order around, to tease if he wants to, as long as his father never knows that the Prince undresses for lower men and would let them fuck him if they weren't too afraid of execution.

Donghyuck brings his legs up to his bed, pushes back until he's resting against the cushions. He gives the odd impression of sitting on a throne, and that feeling grows as Johnny realizes he's still standing by the door like an outsider. Donghyuck doesn't invite him to approach the bed or to sit on one of the sofas; he's still mad at Johnny for refusing to look at his naked body, and this is his small protest. He leaves Johnny there, on his feet after a long day of work, just because he can.

And then, out of nowhere, Donghyuck sighs, “You've been spending time with my brother.”

Johnny can't lie, even though he wants to do it so badly. It's one of Donghyuck's little traps, and there's no escape.

“That's right,” Johnny croaks out.

Donghyuck barely lets him answer, for he speaks over him, “What for?”

It has always humored him that Donghyuck can't stand that Johnny and Minhyung are close. Minhyung was never a threat to Donghyuck in any way – he's a bastard, relegated to the commander of the army because his only value lies in directly fighting for his kingdom. Minhyung rarely stays in the palace, since he prefers using the facilities for soldiers; he still has to stick around when the King orders him to be there, and during formal events as well, but his lack of power doesn't calm Donghyuck down.

Minhyung isn't a man of thrones and privileges, and that's what irks Donghyuck – Johnny and Minhyung are the same, have permission to be with each other without limitations, but the breach between Donghyuck and him must remain alive and intact.

“Minhyung is short on soldiers,” Johnny explains. Donghyuck's lips turn down in displeasure, but Johnny doesn't fall silent, since Donghyuck is wired to react negatively at any excuse. “We're trying to figure out the best way to manage them.”

Donghyuck almost laughs at that, but his laughter winds up becoming a sarcastic scoff.

“Let Yuta help him,” he retorts. He doesn't spare Johnny any attention, as if to humiliate him further. It doesn't matter that Johnny is just fulfilling his duties; if Donghyuck doesn't like it, then he has to obey and comply. “Not you.”

Capricious, jealous, possessive.

Johnny sighs in resignation, “Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck is ready to fight, words on the tip of his tongue, and it takes Johnny a moment to realize what's happening.

“That's not your place,” Donghyuck snaps at him, a glare blinding his features. He stares at Johnny at last, and his jealousy is tinted with anger, with the fear of losing him to his bastard brother. “It's an order.”

Of course Donghyuck called him tonight.

Under the false certainty that Johnny is seeing Minhyung in secret, Donghyuck wanted to provoke, to test Johnny's patience. But Johnny isn’t a man that would be unable to control his own body. Donghyuck meant to destroy him with the sweetest offer, to get him into his bed and out of Minhyung’s arms. And because Johnny didn't give into his body, his last resort is bite out an order and watch Johnny's impotence unfurl before him.

A prince must have what he wants, and Johnny is no one to deprive him of it.

Like most deaths, it happens right after dusk.

Johnny can count with one hand the amount of men he has seen die in the daylight. When it comes to diseases, men are the weakest when candles are off, when silence takes over, when only the rumble of the wind can be heard. It happens after dusk, but Johnny is still awake, blowing off the candles perched on his bedroom’s walls. That night, there’s a strange pressure in his head, an uncomfortable sensation that spreads over his chest. Johnny can’t tell if it’s because of Donghyuck’s usual attitude – the fact that he strolled around the castle all day just to make sure that Johnny followed his orders – or something entirely different.

When a guard knocks on his door, Johnny doesn’t react. He observes the door from his bed, wondering why tonight, why right now, if the kingdom isn’t ready to deal with a new King. The King has been ill for a while, so ill that the advisors haven’t met up with him in the past few weeks. The King summoned Yuta from time to time, but their conversations remained private, and the fear of an upcoming treason was latent, almost tangible. There isn’t a weaker kingdom than a kingdom with a moribund king, and it’s that time between disease and death that puts them in danger – that puts Donghyuck in danger too.

In many ways, the King’s death is a relief.

But sitting around the counseling table and waiting for the prince, waiting for Lee Donghyuck, is a turning point that Johnny has dreaded for a long time. He watches the rest of the counselors, who are equally nervous and impatient, maybe scared. Yuta looks the most composed, since he must have known that the King would die sooner than later, but that doesn’t mean he’s impassible.

Doyoung has his eyes set on Johnny, immovable, like a hawk waiting for its prey to look the other way. Doyoung knows that Johnny indulges Donghyuck, that he's always been the apple of his eye, but Donghyuck won't be a Prince to spoil anymore. He will be a King, and Johnny can't paint beautiful lies for him: the future of the kingdom is in Donghyuck's hands, it depends on his skills to rule, and Johnny can't throw that away just for the beautiful light in his eyes.

Johnny isn't blind. Doyoung's gaze isn't the only thing that doubts his capacity to be Donghyuck's advisor. Even Yuta glances at him from time to time, and Johnny agrees with them. He doesn't trust his own judgment either.

“The Prince is impertinent,” Doyoung says a few seconds later, looking around the table without fear.

He should fear. A council has never been the right place to criticize a King, and it isn't now either. Of course Donghyuck is impertinent. He's impertinent, whimsical, and more interested in his night activities than in his duties, but Johnny won't let anyone spread mistrust towards Donghyuck in such a sensitive political moment.

He glowers at Doyoung across the table, every other advisor tensing up at the exchange. “You mustn't speak about your King that way,” Johnny warns him.

It could be even considered treason, an attempt at rebellion, and Doyoung knows what he's risking.

“We will have to deal with him,” Doyoung retorts. He isn't scared of Johnny, that's evident, perhaps because he's more scared of their future. “Don't be a barrier too, Johnny.”

 _Don't protect Donghyuck if he takes a bad decision,_ he’s saying. _Don’t conform, don’t accept his insane ideas._

And he will take many bad decisions, Johnny is certain of that. Donghyuck isn't that young anymore, but even the oldest men are betrayed by their apparent wisdom. Controlling the urge to provoke a brawl, Johnny stays silent. Donghyuck doesn’t need fights tonight; he needs an easy, smooth transition without added problems. Seeing your father die is enough of a torture.

Before any of the advisors can give their opinion, the guard by the door announces Donghyuck’s presence. Everyone around the table stands to receive him, and there the new King steps into the room, perfectly dressed and groomed for this occasion. Even in a night like this one, Donghyuck can’t afford looking weak, and his servants have made sure to embellish the best of him in an attempt to drown what shouldn’t be seen. It has worked to a certain extent, because Donghyuck has been born to be a King, and a few advisors can’t overpower that.

However, Johnny has grown with Donghyuck. He’s familiar with all his secrets, with how untrue his confidence is, and when he walks up to the table with firm steps and an unwavering gaze, Johnny knows that he’s terrified. All princes are made up of lies, and Johnny knows this lie too well. The other advisors see only what Donghyuck shows: a boy that has the power to do and undo their lives, and that won’t hesitate to hang them if they betray him.

Donghyuck signals them to sit down, his gaze studying every one of them as they obey. He doesn’t linger on Johnny for longer, doesn’t give him favoritism, but Johnny stills looks for that tiny hint of his suffering, the proof that he’s not in a mental state to have this conversation. It’s a concern improper of the situation – whether Donghyuck likes it or not, whether he needs to mourn his father or not, he still must start ruling a kingdom.

“I’m ready to be King,” Donghyuck sentences, confirming the apprehension that fills the atmosphere. He scans their reactions, and so does Johnny, just to discover that Doyoung looks at Donghyuck with solemnity, a façade that works like magic. Donghyuck continues, “It does not mean I will be a good one. It’s your duty to make sure I am.”

Johnny shouldn’t be here.

His influence on Donghyuck is positive, but not in the right way. He makes Donghyuck more human than a king should be. He wants to cherish and love him, and to his disgrace, Donghyuck wants to love him back.

Donghyuck is an unstoppable force.

He calls for Johnny days later, so early in the morning that Johnny has to stumble through his chamber and prepare before his lateness maddens him. Donghyuck has never liked waiting, and even less after becoming King.

To Johnny’s surprise, Donghyuck summons him to one of the libraries. There are only two libraries in the palace, and though Donghyuck chooses the smallest one, it’s still not the best place to have a private conversation. Only three guards have accompanied him, all silent and apparently absent, but Johnny knows that a pair of ears will never be deaf to gossip.

Donghyuck sits by the table, reclined back, boredom tinting his whole expression. He’s wearing a deep black doublet today, and it makes him look younger, the fabric fastened around his neck with a tight gold collar. Even in an old, dusty library he stands out like a flame, and Johnny has to remind himself that Donghyuck isn’t his _friend_ , that no matter how Donghyuck looks at him when they’re alone, that doesn’t make him Johnny’s. It’s the other way around, because Johnny has always belonged to him in all the possible senses.

Upon recognizing Johnny, Donghyuck’s eyes light up in interest, and for a split second Johnny distinguishes the ghost of a smile. It’s ephemeral, perhaps because Donghyuck can sense how one of the guards is staring at him, either awed by his beauty or thinking that it’s part of his job, and he doesn’t show fondness towards Johnny. Johnny will have to talk to that guard later, for they have to learn to be blind when it comes to the King.

“His Majesty,” Johnny greets him, still breathless from the run.

Donghyuck barely acknowledges him.

He extends a hand towards the chair in front of him and orders, “Take a seat.” Johnny blinks down, avoiding his attentive gaze, and follows the command. He’s used to being alone with Donghyuck, but this time they’re not alone, and he hopes that Donghyuck can remember that. “We will celebrate my coronation ball this month.”

Johnny flickers his gaze up just in time to see how Donghyuck pushes a quill and a bunch of parchments towards him, a mischievous smile as he takes in Johnny’s reaction.

“You want me to write the letters?” Johnny asks. He realizes his mistake right away, can feel at least two guards observing him, so he adds, “His Majesty.”

Donghyuck levels him up with a fake glare. “Wouldn’t expect the King to write messages himself, would you?”

“I wouldn’t,” Johnny agrees.

But Johnny isn’t trained to write messages either. There’s a designed servant for that, trained in calligraphy and literacy, because the wrong word in a letter could cause a war for decades.

This has to be one of Donghyuck’s little games. It’s just a matter of discovering which one he’s playing today.

Donghyuck taps his fingers on the table, never tearing his eyes away from Johnny, and leans over the table with a devilish shade on his semblance.

“I want the Huangs to attend the ball,” he whispers, like it’s a secret.

Johnny breathes in. He doesn’t like where this conversation is going, but he grabs the quill just to appease Donghyuck, to pretend in front of the guards that he’s a good servant.

“That won’t be possible,” Johnny mutters back at him. Donghyuck expects that answer, hence the challenging look that he sends Johnny next, his eyebrows raised. “Their kingdom is in a sensitive position right now. The King and Queen won’t abandon their people for your coronation.”

Donghyuck knows all that. Part of their army left to help the Huang dynasty, for they’ve been at war for years and their losses are having a great impact on their strength. It’s still none of Donghyuck’s business to rescue them from their own mistakes, and that’s why Donghyuck has followed his father’s decision and isn’t lending more help. His father had taught him to stay out of conflicts unless he was getting a benefit out of it.

“They will have to send one of the princes,” Donghyuck retorts. It’s a good sign that he’s hearing out Johnny’s advice, but Johnny is smarter than this: he’s falling down the path Donghyuck traced for him. “Give them that message.”

One of the princes, Johnny muses to himself. When the war began, the Huang dynasty had offered the King to set up a marriage between their first born male children – it seemed like a good offer, but it implied that Donghyuck would have had to leave the kingdom and marry Yukhei. He would have had to stay there, to rule a different kingdom. The other prince was Minhyung, and Minhyung was a bastard, so the King couldn’t hand over the only prince that could become King.

Johnny still understands what the Huang dynasty wanted: to fuse their kingdoms, but by stripping the Lee family from his future, legit rulers.

Swallowing the knot in his throat, Johnny confirms, “His Majesty wants the youngest prince to attend the ball, is that correct?”

It pleases Donghyuck that Johnny can understand him so well. But Donghyuck understands Johnny too: this choice is for him, to irritate him so that he protests against Donghyuck’s will. Johnny wishes he could, but Donghyuck doesn’t deserve to witness the display of jealousy he’s looking for.

“Bring him to me,” Donghyuck affirms. He proudly smirks at Johnny as though he doesn’t need him to express his discontent to know that he’s boiling inside. “His parents adored him so much that they refused to marry him off. I want to see how lovely he is with my own eyes.”

“Donghyuck is your weakness.”

After all these years, it’s the first time someone tells Johnny the truth so bluntly.

Yuta isn’t even facing him. They stand side by side, watching the small training field where dozens of inexperienced teenagers try to swing their swords against each other. Minhyung is with them, and so are other lower ranked generals, but their presence doesn’t seem to do anything but make the boys more nervous.

Johnny expected this attempt would be pathetic, but considering the soldiers they lost to the Huang dynasty and the lack of recruiting in the last few years, the size of the army is decreasing at an alarming rate. Minhyung couldn’t give the order of recruiting all boys older than thirteen, but he had requested it to Donghyuck, and Donghyuck wasn’t able to say no – even if he wanted to just out of pettiness, just because he’s still convinced that Minhyung is chasing after Johnny or vice versa.

“It’s appropriate that my weakness is the King,” Johnny responds, fastening his hand around the handle of his sword for comfort. “Whether I’m in love with him or not, my duty is protect his life with mine either way.”

Yuta sends him an unreadable glance, the noise of the swords subduing his emotions. He has his hair tied up in a bun, so Johnny can perfectly distinguish his features – there’s no judgment in his face, but a glint of surprise. Johnny would have never spoken those words out loud when Donghyuck was only a Prince, for the King would have severely punished him for it, but now that Donghyuck is in that position Johnny doesn’t have to worry about that.

In fact, Donghyuck would love to revel in his suffering.

“That doesn’t mean you should encourage his behavior,” Yuta reminds him. And Johnny tries to, but he would be lying to himself if he said that he’s doing his best. That’s the reason Donghyuck is his weakness: because Johnny always fights him to lose. “Donghyuck is more worried about who he tangles into his bed than about his kingdom.”

He has always been, however, but a Prince is allowed to fool around in his free time. A King has to limit himself to his spouse or to his concubines, and Donghyuck doesn’t seem eager to follow any of those options.

Upon his silence, Yuta insists, “If we let him, the next war will be because he slept with the wrong person.”

Johnny fears that too, especially now that they will receive visits from different kingdoms to pay respects to the new King in the east. Donghyuck won’t have any issue sleeping with another king or queen, or with their princes and princesses. It’s dangerous.

Johnny inhales, the training field shrinking around him, and grunts, “What are you suggesting?”

He knows what Yuta is insinuating, thus his words don’t take him by surprise. “Get into his bed, and then no one else will.”

“This is out of place, Yuta.”

Yuta deliberately ignores the threatening edge in his tone.

“Half of the advisors already think you’re fucking him,” he says. One of the boys gets too close while fighting his rival, and Yuta shouts at him so loudly that most people in the training field freeze. Even Minhyung dedicates Yuta a warning glance, as to prevent him from scaring the younger boys. “If word gets out, at least it should be for a real reason.”

For a moment, Johnny can’t believe what he’s hearing. It’s improper of Yuta to push him into Donghyuck’s arms, to tell him to _enjoy the moment_ after Yuta has spent half a decade trying to manage Johnny’s feelings for Donghyuck.

Before Johnny can bite out an offensive remark, Minhyung is striding towards them, and Johnny closes his mouth not to evidence himself. However, Yuta grins at Minhyung without shame, skipping over formalities and protocols – and that explains his unusual advice, too. It’s not just advice for Johnny.

“Yuta,” Minhyung softly greets him, an unabashed smile that makes Johnny feel like he’s intruding. But then Minhyung looks at him and says, “Johnny.”

Bowing his head, Johnny responds, “My commander.”

Instead of giving Yuta a direct order, Minhyung only has to tilt his head for him to understand what he wants: privacy. Johnny knows that they’re close, but he can’t remember when they developed the ability to communicate through silence, or since when Yuta caresses Minhyung’s arm as a goodbye gesture.

It doesn’t matter, after all. Minhyung is a free man, as free as he can be as a bastard, and Yuta doesn’t have to worry about what people will think of them.

As soon as Yuta parts to _pretend_ that he’s evaluating the boys, Minhyung lets out a sigh. He comes closer, pats Johnny’s arm until his hand rests on his shoulders, squeezing there. This is the sort of gestures that spread as rumors, Johnny guesses, the little talks that reach Donghyuck and make him paranoid, but Johnny is no one to push Minhyung away. Besides, he’s always liked Minhyung, and under other circumstances they would have become friends.

“You made my brother pick a fight with me,” Minhyung huffs out then, resigned. Johnny closes his eyes in frustration, because he expected Donghyuck to be jealous, but not to the point of scolding his brother. However, Minhyung doesn’t seem to resent him, since he laughs and jokes, “The things I have to deal with because of you.”

“I lament that so much,” Johnny apologizes. It’s odd to apologize in Donghyuck’s name, as if he’s responsible of what the King does, of his immaturity. “I swear it wasn’t my doing.”

Minhyung’s eyes sparkle with amusement.

“I know,” he says. Of course he knows: he saw Donghyuck grow up, even took care of him when they were children even if they’re only one year apart. Donghyuck is a dangerous tornado, but for Minhyung he’s always going to be his little brother. “I’ve heard he invited one of the Huang princes to his coronation ball.”

Even though there are no apparent second intentions behind Minhyung’s words, Johnny catches the joyful inflexion in his voice. It makes sense that Donghyuck’s insane ideas entertain him, as long as they don’t lead to a disaster, so Johnny can’t blame him.

“That’s right,” Johnny confirms. Only one week after they sent out the invitation, the Huang dynasty had responded. As Johnny predicted, the King and Queen wouldn’t attend. “They accepted, but we don’t know which son they will send here.”

Johnny is sure that it won’t be Yukhei. Either Guanheng or Renjun, and Johnny prefers the first – the tales about Renjun’s beauty and demeanor are known all around the peninsula, but so are the tales about his behavior. Johnny has enough trouble with Donghyuck, so another entitled prince is the last of his wishes.

“We’ll tighten the security,” Minhyung tells him, misinterpreting his worry. “A coronation ball isn’t a public event.”

It could have been, but Donghyuck has never been a friend of public events. He despises the masses, the unwanted attention. He loves attention as long as he deems it worthy, as if his mere presence is a gift that must be earned. And damn, Johnny agrees. No commoner should be allowed to look at such beautiful boy, not even Johnny himself.

“Do that,” Johnny agrees with a nod. “We don’t want people talking about Donghyuck’s politics during his ball.”

Despite the slim chances he’ll be allowed into the King’s bedchamber at that time of the night, Johnny shows up without previous announcement past midnight.

The fact that he’s Donghyuck’s main advisor, that he has been his right hand for years, doesn't grant him permission to enter the chamber. Donghyuck has requested, his guards affirm, complete privacy tonight. It frightens Johnny at first, in case Donghyuck has brought company to his chamber, but no sounds come from inside.

Even though Johnny isn’t disposed to leave without putting a fight, the guards aren’t allowed to bother Donghyuck. It would be a direct rebellion against his orders, so Johnny’s only option is to raise his voice, to pretend that he’s arguing with the guards until Donghyuck hears them. It takes a few minutes, either because Donghyuck has recognized his voice and doesn’t want to see him, or because he’s truly asleep.

When the door opens, Donghyuck’s semblance is nothing but indignation. He glances at Johnny first, his lips pressed into a line, and then he glowers at the guards. Johnny is about to laugh at them, because the youngest guard – Jisung, a new addition to the security of the palace – can’t help but glance at Donghyuck for a moment. Donghyuck isn’t properly dressed, just wearing a gown open in the middle that reveals more skin than it covers. Jisung doesn’t cower because of the anger in Donghyuck’s eyes: he cowers because the King is half naked.

And Donghyuck notices, since he never misses anything: he lets his gown open even wider, faces Jisung rather than the other guard, and spits, “What did I tell you? Do you think letting a man shout outside my bedchamber isn’t a disturbance?”

Jisung ignores that one must never reply to a King. Johnny will teach him later, when Donghyuck is out of the picture, that as a guard he must be invisible.

“His Majesty–” Jisung begins, his voice breaking for a proper apology.

“Silence,” Donghyuck interrupts him, equally confused and scandalized at his audacity. Then he squints at Johnny, as if to decide if he has orchestrated this whole disrespectful circus, and says, “Get in.”

Both guards are inevitably shocked at the invitation, but Johnny doesn’t hesitate to accept it. Johnny makes sure to close the door behind him, and Donghyuck doesn’t wait for him to explain himself. He slips back into his bed, throwing his gown on the floor, and Johnny has to look away until Donghyuck is under the covers.

“What are you doing here?” Donghyuck asks him, no sympathy or patience.

It’s obvious that Donghyuck is in a bad mood, for he never treats Johnny so harshly. And even if Donghyuck is pretty passionate, he’s capable of managing his emotions in public – if he wanted to, he could pretend that he’s perfectly fine. Johnny would know the truth anyhow, but that’s a skill he's developed after years and years of analyzing the nuances of Donghyuck’s personality.

Johnny slowly walks towards the bed, unbuckles his sword belt just to leave it by the bed, much to Donghyuck’s interest. Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, but his eyes immediately roam over Johnny’s body, stopping on his abdomen and his thighs now that the sword and the belt aren't covering him.

And when Johnny sinks the first knee on the mattress, Donghyuck audibly catches his breath. To Johnny’s shock, Donghyuck tears his gaze away, either overwhelmed or embarrassed – and it’s such an unusual gesture that Johnny doubts if this is right, if he shouldn’t withdraw now that he’s still allowed.

They can’t retreat, however. Johnny’s shoes fall on the floor with a loud thump and the spark in Donghyuck’s eyes shifts, fear long forgotten. As Donghyuck focuses on him again, his hands come to grab at the hem of Johnny’s pants, bringing him closer, and Johnny stumbles forward without remedy.

Donghyuck doesn’t dare to pull him into a kiss. It’s forbidden for him: Johnny has rejected him so many times that it doesn’t make sense that he would give in tonight. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind, but he molds to the situation with vacillating hands and a spark of hope on his face that destroys Johnny. That reminds him that this could be his biggest mistake.

Johnny presses against his side, caressing over Donghyuck’s hips, the covers concealing the warmth of his touch. It's still too intimate, the most intimate thing he has done to Donghyuck, because Donghyuck is completely bare under the sheets. Donghyuck only dares to set his hand over his, his eyes confused and wide as he stares at Johnny.

“Are you alright?” Johnny whispers, so low that Donghyuck barely hears him.

Donghyuck stays silent, but only at first. His strong demeanor dwindles under Johnny’s concern, under his care; perhaps it’s just the way Johnny looks at him, like he can see through Donghyuck, unlike everyone else. Donghyuck must have spent the whole day making an effort to hide his emotions, yet those attempts are useless with Johnny.

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck mutters.

Johnny is very careful when he lifts his hand to caress Donghyuck’s cheek. Donghyuck isn’t used to being touched, and the moment Johnny’s palm makes contact with his jaw, he visibly shivers all over.

“You look tired, Donghyuck,” Johnny answers. It’s not just that: Donghyuck looks lonely, unloved and distant. Johnny bundles him up with the covers, and Donghyuck cuddles against him by instinct, with so much carefulness that it might as well be shyness. “The coronation ball is in a few days and prince Huang is arriving tomorrow. You should rest and eat, and not worry about politics until all this is over.”

Donghyuck scrutinizes him, surprise striking his expression for a second. He isn't afraid of this sudden intimacy, though, of Johnny caring for him beyond his duties. He rubs his face against Johnny's hand, a hand that can cradle Donghyuck's whole face, that makes Donghyuck look even smaller tonight.

“Did my Johnny get traded with someone else?” Donghyuck asks, more to himself than to Johnny.

Johnny's heart flips at his words. It's difficult to conceal his feelings, the tingling that creeps up on him. Donghyuck uses a tone that is reserved for the bedroom, a tone that Johnny has only heard a few times; a tone that no one else has heard, he's sure of that, no matter how many people have slided between Donghyuck's legs. Donghyuck might have had other bed partners, but he never trusted any of them like he trusts Johnny. His fondness surges from that: his trust in Johnny.

Donghyuck has always weaponized his body, but what he's doing now is the exact opposite.

Johnny gazes down at him. Donghyuck breathes in small puffs, his lips parted only enough to let out the air – like he intends to hide his nervousness from him. He doesn't understand why Johnny is here tonight, but his confusion has become desperation, and his hands coyly cling onto Johnny's top. Both know that his slender, delicate fingers wouldn't be able to retain Johnny, and yet they are. That simple gesture has more power than all the obscenities Donghyuck has offered him before.

Instead of answering his question, Johnny breathes out a sincere, “You’re a menace to this kingdom.”

It could be an insult. And before Donghyuck can react, Johnny fears that Donghyuck will interpret it as such. But Donghyuck merely freezes, his mouth open in wonder – because he can tell that Johnny doesn't mean to offend him, and at the same time he can't understand his words.

“Why?” Donghyuck whispers, wary.

Johnny caresses down his face, his hand stopping under his jaw. Donghyuck lifts his chin for him, follows the natural path that Johnny's moves are marking for him.

And Johnny can't control his mouth, can't control his thoughts, because he instinctively answers, “Because wars exist to have men like you.”

Watching Donghyuck shatter is both delicious and terrifying. Johnny scares himself too, but he can't deny the truth. If Donghyuck ever provokes a war, it won't be because of his political decisions. It will be because men are greedy, and greedier when it comes to carnal matters, and Donghyuck is a small, treasured sweet that everyone wants to taste.

Johnny wants him too.

Donghyuck's breathing becomes erratic as Johnny leans over him, so slowly that the world seems to rotate around them. Donghyuck's hand perches behind his neck, but he doesn't press, just strokes as though his impatience could make Johnny change his opinion.

It's too late to pretend, and when Johnny feels Donghyuck's hot breath over his lips, it's also too late to control himself. He stops right there, his heart in a fist, Donghyuck trembling under him.

“His Majesty,” Johnny mutters, just as afraid. “Push me away.”

A King doesn't follow orders: Donghyuck only has to fasten his hand behind Johnny's neck to make the last inch between them disappear.

Donghyuck's lips are smooth, and Johnny slides on them as though he's profaning all of Donghyuck with a kiss. It feels that way, but Donghyuck doesn't give him time to think about it. His hesitation evaporates, his tongue claiming Johnny's lips, and both of their tongues meet for the first time. It's a kiss as delicate as it is indecent, and in the blink of an eye it escalates out of Johnny's control. The covers slip down Donghyuck's body, since he wraps one of his legs around Johnny's hips, and then Johnny has a naked man against him, moaning into his kisses with so much compliance that it's impossible to say no.

However, Johnny just has to rest his hands over Donghyuck's waist for Donghyuck to get the message. Donghyuck is experienced enough to understand that implicit request, to distinguish push from pull, and he detaches from Johnny with a sigh.

There's no fury, just complete calm in his eyes, as if a mere kiss has appeased him. Maybe it has. But breaking the kiss is painful for Johnny too; it feels like the nothingness, like it's not enough, like he's renouncing to everything a man could ever have.

Donghyuck tries to stabilize his breathing, little gasps breaking the silence, and looks up at him with an unreadable gaze.

“This is a promise you can’t keep,” he accuses Johnny.

It's not accusation, not entirely, because it's true. Johnny doesn't have the right to kiss a King and then run away, and Donghyuck is smart enough to know that's what he intends to do.

Just by gazing into his eyes, Johnny knows Donghyuck is going to let him run away. He just doesn't know why.

“It’s not a promise,” Johnny retorts. “I don't break my promises.”

Donghyuck would never force him to kneel in front of him, even if this is the perfect moment to make him pay for his actions. This is Donghyuck's specialty: he always gets what he wants, but first he makes others believe that surrendering to him is what they want too. He finds no joy in using his bloodline power to manipulate men.

Distractedly humming, Donghyuck takes a strand of Johnny's hair and tucks it behind his ear, all his focus there instead of on Johnny's eyes.

“Your hair is getting long,” he observes, a simple comment that shouldn't have any importance. But it does now, because Johnny's mouth was melted into his one moment ago, and Donghyuck never wastes his words. “Keep it this way. I like it.”

Johnny searches for the secret message in Donghyuck's eyes, but there's nothing there. At least not for him.

Donghyuck sits on his throne, looking ahead, and waits.

The kingdom has been in a ruckus since yesterday, though no one knows who spread the rumor that the Huang prince would arrive today. However, in the throne room the silence is absolute.

It’s odd for Johnny to see the throne room so crowded, both sides flanked by a hundred guards. Some of them are the best soldiers that Minhyung has, but Johnny supposes that the occasion called for it. Minhyung is there too, on the opposite side of the room, and Johnny looks for him one last time to make sure everything is alright.

Today, Donghyuck has chosen red. It’s an ostentatious color, because he’s aware of how dangerous he looks in it, how it contrasts against his black hair and the shade of dark brown in his eyes. He’s seated on his throne with an elegancy that reminds Johnny of his mother, an elegancy that his father lacked. Johnny is glad that Donghyuck isn’t going to look back at him today, because he doesn’t think he can deal with the force his demeanor carries, with how Johnny's feelings bloom just by glancing at him.

For the first time since Donghyuck became King, Johnny stares at him and sees who Donghyuck is supposed to be, rather than who he is.

However, that’s a fleeting thought that dims out when the doors of the throne room are pulled open by the guards. Johnny can hear the carriages and the horses, a few voices and a ton of noises of amazement; none of that perturbs Donghyuck’s calmness, not on the outside.

From his position, Donghyuck can already see who’s behind the door, and Johnny stares at him in an attempt to figure out what he’s seeing. The guards that accompany the Huang prince enter first, in two lines that serve as a barrier against Donghyuck's guards. They walk in perfect synchronization, his armors thick and evidently new, and Johnny can't help but be impressed.

The herald steps forward one second later, and before Johnny can read the situation, the man announces, “His Royal Highness, Huang Renjun, Prince of the South.”

And Huang Renjun steps in.

Johnny has had hope so far, but now all his possibilities at having a calm coronation ball crumble down. He had thought that maybe, regardless of Donghyuck specifically asking for the youngest Huang prince, his parents would refuse to hand him over by request. Johnny had almost been sure that the right choice would be Guanheng.

But as he takes in Renjun’s presence before him, striding across the hall until he’s positioned in front of the throne, Johnny knows that he won’t be able to manage neither Donghyuck nor Renjun. Renjun is very different from the men in Donghyuck’s kingdom; perhaps because he’s a prince, or perhaps because he’s from the south. Either way, Donghyuck has never had a southern or such a beautiful prince around.

Donghyuck is respectful, but the smile that expands on his face is unabashed, even playful. He fidgets a bit on his throne, slightly leaning forward to look at Renjun better, and though Johnny can’t see Renjun’s expression well, he can tell that he’s smiling as well.

Donghyuck gives Renjun all the time in the world to bow down for him, and Renjun bows with a sharp, beautiful move, his eyes still directed at Donghyuck. He slants his body, but not his head, a sign that he doesn't consider himself inferior to him. Johnny knows that Donghyuck loves that, both because of his audacity and because he loves stepping on people to prove a point.

By the time Renjun straightens up again, Donghyuck's smile has transformed into a smirk. Johnny shifts his weight from side to side, nervous, and the guard next to him discreetly sets a hand behind his back to calm him down.

“My prince,” Donghyuck greets Renjun, skipping over formalities and honorifics, addressing him in an intimate way. Johnny can sense how the atmosphere around them stiffens, how Renjun's guards tense up, and Donghyuck's army imitates them in response. “I’m delighted to see that the tales about your beauty are true.”

If Renjun wanted to, he could scold the King himself for treating him like a friend. At first glance, it's evident that Renjun is prideful, and that even though he must be used to compliments, he can still revel in the King's approval.

“However,” Renjun begins, softly, like a gift for Donghyuck. “No tale could do his Majesty any justice.”

Johnny feels a shiver run down his spine, a shiver of spines and blood.

Donghyuck's smile widens at Renjun's words, a gesture that instills calmness back into the throne room. With a wave of his hand, Donghyuck orders the guards to close the doors, and only when the room has been isolated from prying eyes, does Donghyuck stand. He looks beyond beautiful in red, and it's not a surprise that Renjun follows every movement of his with an awestruck expression.

Johnny has to look away, but it's not necessary: all of Donghyuck's attention is on Renjun, because in a King's world, only other royals exist. Johnny is a peon in the back of his kingdom. He's Donghyuck's whim, someone to use and throw away, someone that Donghyuck will stomp his feet for, but will never compromise his power for. With a prince like Renjun in front of him, Donghyuck would never spare Johnny a mere glance.

It's just the way it has to be. Those lips that kissed Johnny days ago now kiss the back of Renjun's hand, and those eyes that only looked at Johnny now drink up Renjun's features with the same spark, the same false sensation of infatuation.

But it's Johnny's fault, really, for thinking that Donghyuck's feelings for him were different.

“I understand your frustration,” Minhyung tells him. “But prince Renjun is innocuous.”

Johnny feels like a fool, but perhaps it's just because he _is_ a fool.

Minhyung receives him without trouble, even if in preparations for the coronation ball Minhyung has temporarily moved back into the palace and he could tell the guards to kick him out. Minhyung always has his door open for everyone, and Johnny isn't an exception just because his brother intends to forbid them to see each other.

Minutes later, after Johnny has spewed that trail of unfounded suspicions and painted himself exactly like he feels – jealous, violent and incompetent – Minhyung makes him sit on his bed. It isn't a relief that Minhyung affirms that he understands Johnny. Johnny doesn't want to be understood: he wants someone to put a wall between Donghyuck and Renjun, no matter how childish and irrational that wish is.

And he tried: he advised Donghyuck not to go with Renjun to the gardens to take a night walk, for anything he said could be a reason to break a deal or to start a war, but Donghyuck only sent him an infuriated look and ordered him to shut up, to stay in his place and, under no circumstances, to follow them into the gardens.

That's how Johnny ended up resorting to Minhyung, because he couldn't disobey Donghyuck's orders, but he could madden him.

“You don't know that,” Johnny replies, looking at the floor instead of Minhyung's eyes.

“How is he more dangerous than any of the guests?” Minhyung insists. He walks up to the window, pulls the heavy curtains to take a peek at the gardens. Sooner or later Donghyuck and Renjun will be spotted from Minhyung's chamber, unless they purposely avoid that section of the gardens. Johnny doesn't want to see them, but he still has the urge to ask Minhyung if they're already there. “He's just a prince, Johnny, a prince of a kingdom we're allied to. If anything, he will want to marry Donghyuck in the future, not kill him.”

The silence that follows speaks for itself, and Minhyung spins on his heels to glance at Johnny. Johnny returns the glance for a moment, because he doesn't know how to express himself, or how to lie to Minhyung.

Johnny has spent half of his life convincing Donghyuck that he had to be responsible. That he had duties, expectations to fulfill, and that he couldn't toss away the possibility of marriage just because he despised the idea. He was an only son, and if he didn't have children or married another royal, there would be no contender for the throne. Only Minhyung would remain, an illegitimate son, to fight his own cousins and relatives for the throne.

“Oh,” Minhyung whispers, realization seeping on his semblance. “I touched where it hurts.”

And judging his tone, Minhyung doesn't regret it. Perhaps Johnny needs a wake-up call, perhaps he has lost his reason; a simple kiss from Donghyuck and he's disposed to provoke a political scandal. He's disposed to confront a prince and risk a war just so that Donghyuck doesn't spread his legs for Renjun.

“I'm aware that Donghyuck has to marry sooner or later,” Johnny responds, knives in his throat. Under Minhyung's sharp eyes, it's harder to say the truth, and even harder to pretend that he has his feet on the ground. The reality is that Johnny doesn't know when he started flying up, but he's far from the ground now. “But it should be a girl.”

Minhyung strolls around the bed in silence, but he doesn't show mercy when he stands before Johnny. Unlike Johnny, Minhyung has been raised in middle ground, always enjoying the benefits of being the King's son, but also putting up with the degradation directed at him. And just like him, Johnny should remember what belongs to him and what doesn't. He's by Donghyuck's side to make him a great King, even to share his bed if he pleases, but not to own him.

“You just hate to think that he could develop feelings for his spouse,” Minhyung retorts at him. He doesn't have any intention to hurt Johnny, but it hurts. Johnny could bear to see Donghyuck in a marriage with someone he doesn't fancy. If Donghyuck ends up loving someone else, and if he can build a life with them, Johnny won't know how to go on. “He likes girls, still, even if he can't love them, you know?”

That's funny, because Donghyuck has always had a strong inclination for men. He likes girls like one would like the pretty flowers in their garden, nothing beyond that.

Johnny scoffs and says, “He likes the pleasure.”

Minhyung can't deny that. When Donghyuck sleeps with girls, it's just because there are no boys around. There's not a big difference, however, because Donghyuck doesn't love or truly want the men he sleeps with either.

“He does,” Minhyung agrees. He steps closer, so close that Johnny stiffens, backing away. But Minhyung doesn't relent: he sets his hands on both sides of Johnny's legs and then he tilts forward, invading his personal space. If Donghyuck was to find them right now, he would grab his brother by the hair and would drag him all over the floor. “And that is what Renjun is for him too. Pleasure.”

And that is what Johnny is too. Except he never gave in, he never got to spread Donghyuck's legs, and Donghyuck learned to chase and chase without getting a reward. Yuta might be right; if Donghyuck's body is all Johnny can aspire to, then he should have taken at least that.

“This isn't mere jealousy,” Johnny fights.

The problem is that it's impossible to hide his emotions from Minhyung, since there's no veil between them anymore. Yet Minhyung gives him a moment, looking into his eyes, as though he's expecting Johnny to retract his words.

And when Johnny doesn't, Minhyung grunts a merciless, “Don't visit his chamber tonight.” Because he will have company, because this whole flirting game doesn't end with a walk in the gardens, and because Johnny doesn't have any right to be there. If Donghyuck wants the prince, he can have him. Johnny is no one to manipulate Donghyuck's wishes, and less to stop him. Minhyung senses his doubt and adds, “It's, whether you like it or not, an order.”

Bastard or not, Johnny owes Minhyung obedience too.

“Minhyung–” he starts, desperation ripping through him.

Minhyung interrupts him, “You heard me.”

Johnny closes his mouth, but his heartbeat becomes erratic, painful. He watches Minhyung step back, glancing down at a helpless Johnny that can't understand why Minhyung would do this to him. Minhyung assumes that he's doing Johnny a favor; that Johnny can't stop whatever happens between Renjun and Donghyuck, and he's just saving him the pain of seeing the man he loves entangled with another person in bed.

“This is so easy for you to say,” Johnny says after a pause, shaking his head. “There's nothing separating you and Yuta.”

Minhyung barely reacts at that, but Johnny wouldn't miss his little moment of hesitation, of insecurity. It's pretty evident for everyone around them that Yuta and Minhyung have been seeing each other after their duties, and considering Minhyung's reticence, no one has confronted him about it yet. Yuta isn't a bad choice for someone like Minhyung, and they won't have any problem, no matter if it's serious or just a fling.

That's the reason Minhyung isn't offended at Johnny's bravery: because he understands that Johnny is envious of them, and that he believes Minhyung can't empathize with his situation.

“And?” Minhyung says, tender. Johnny looks up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his sword, his vows, and his love. “My brother was the wrong person to fall in love with. You'll have to live with that.”

Johnny is meant to live and die for and because of Donghyuck, and that won't ever change.

The disinterest that Donghyuck shows in his own coronation ball irks Johnny.

After weeks of preparations, after weeks of hard work and flipping the palace upside down, the last of Donghyuck's worries is his false coronation event.

By the time Johnny arrives at his bedchamber, Renjun is gone. The rumor that they spent the night together, however, is present, passing from mouth to mouth at a speed that frightens Johnny.

He wonders if this is how rumors about Donghyuck sleeping with his advisor spread as well, even if they weren't true. And Johnny would love to fool himself into thinking that these new rumors are just as much of an invention, but they're too explicit to come from a guard's imagination. It seems like Donghyuck and Renjun kissed outside the chamber too, and that's impossible to negate.

Donghyuck's state explains why, almost at midday, he hasn't abandoned his bed yet. He's completely naked, lying on his stomach, only one leg protected by the covers. His pillow has fallen prisoner to his arms, as though he thinks Renjun is still there, and his hair is so messed up that it will take the servants hours to fix it. His elegance is gone, not because he opened his legs for a prince, but because the aftermath isn't doing him any favor. It's the first time Donghyuck obviates his duties after a night of sex, and Johnny has to make an effort not to drag him out of the bed without any tenderness.

“His Majesty,” he calls him, coughing out loud to alert him. “It's time for lunch.”

Donghyuck startles at the sound of his voice, like a small animal that has just noticed there's a lion watching him. Johnny avoids setting his gaze on Donghyuck's body as he lifts his head, eyes wide with confusion.

To Johnny's luck, Donghyuck notices his nakedness right away and, perhaps because he's conscious of what he did last night, he's ashamed of displaying his body. It still smells like sex in the chamber, and that's not something he can conceal.

“Johnny,” he gasps, agitated. He glances at the door behind him, and then at the bed, like he doesn't understand why he's alone after all. Johnny can't believe that Donghyuck expected Renjun to stay with him until he rose from bed. “Who gave you permission to–”

It's infuriating that Donghyuck's knee–jerk reaction is to scold him. Johnny has swallowed his caprices for years, and here he still is, waking up the man he's in love with even in this situation. Never running away from his responsibilities, never neglecting Donghyuck despite the pain.

“Get up, Donghyuck,” Johnny barks out, losing his patience. “Right now.”

There are only two persons that have raised their voices to Donghyuck in his whole life, and Johnny isn't one of them. Donghyuck might have dealt with his father's wrath for a long time, and with his mother's impatience for a shorter time before she died, but a mere advisor shouting at him is new.

His surprise doesn't last, though, because he observes Johnny and sees through him like he's transparent, or like he can cut him open with a hook and look inside him.

Lifting his index finger, Donghyuck warns him, “Don't cross that limit, do you hear me?”

It's an opportunity for Johnny to apologize. He doesn't take it.

“I have no patience for you today,” Johnny answers, his heart beating like a bird in a tiny cage. His words are a blow to Donghyuck's pride, and a mixture of horror and shock paints his features. “You have a coronation ball to attend. A coronation ball that apparently you only orchestrated to fuck a prince, so the last you could do–”

Johnny is aware that this argument is insane, so when Donghyuck jumps out of the bed, dragging his covers with him, Johnny has the decency to withdraw from the bed. Donghyuck doesn't slow down, rage in his pupils, and his hand slaps one of the posts of the canopy bed.

“Silence!” he screams, even though Johnny is already quiet, even though he could never rile Donghyuck up further than this. “How dare you?”

Donghyuck is a King, but he has only one weakness, one man that can reduce him to a mess of emotions and irrationally. It doesn't matter that it's fury. Only Johnny can kick him back to his natural, real self.

“Do you call yourself a man?” Donghyuck spits. He doesn't seem to notice that Johnny has already given up, that he's satisfied with the outcome – that he doesn't need anything else besides this: a proof that Donghyuck cares about him. “You can't fuck me but you become a little jealous child when other person plays with your toys.”

Donghyuck wraps his hand around the post, trying to find balance, as though he's about to faint. Johnny thinks, for a moment, that if Donghyuck falls, he will still catch him before he hits the floor. Donghyuck could tell him a hundred horrible things and Johnny would protect him regardless.

“Know your place,” Donghyuck continues, weaker than before. The first explosion is subduing, and Donghyuck needs to take a breath before continuing. He has trouble to focus on Johnny, glances at his own hands like he can't recognize himself, like he doesn't remember leaving the bed. “I've given you so many opportunities, and you've wasted all of them. I don't want someone that doesn't want me.”

Even if that's not far from the truth, it's foul play. What Donghyuck has always offered him was sharing a bed, no ties or compromise. And Johnny might have itched for losing himself between Donghyuck's legs, but he wasn't like every other man that had lied on that bed.

“I kissed you,” Johnny reminds him.

For him, a kiss is more valuable than what Donghyuck wants from him. Donghyuck wasn't wrong when he said that Johnny couldn't promise him more kisses, but just because it's not in his hands. If the world just let him, there wouldn't be a single thing that Johnny wouldn't be disposed to promise to Donghyuck.

“And then you left like a coward.” Donghyuck's voice breaks, as if the mere mention of what happened is piercing through him. It's just fair that he feels the pain Johnny feels too, at least for once, and Johnny can't pity him for it. Johnny is a coward, yes, and that's what keeps Donghyuck safe; but when Donghyuck looks at him in disappointment, it's the first time Johnny feels ashamed of it. “You don't have enough courage to stay, never will.”

There's a plea in Donghyuck's expression. But because a King must never plead, Johnny ignores it.

“You're funny,” he whispers, biting his bottom lip to control his own words.

He doesn't want to hurt Donghyuck. He's already hurt, and just like Johnny can't escape from this life, neither can Donghyuck. At least Johnny chose this life, but Donghyuck never had the chance to choose.

But Johnny's jealousy wins over his kindness, and he adds, “Because prince Renjun didn't stay either.”

This little game of Donghyuck's, this game of pretending that he can be loved, collapses with a few words.

Donghyuck stares at him, and there's no mercy for Johnny there anymore, because he has crossed more limits than he's allowed to. Donghyuck has indulged him many times, but not today, not if Johnny can be this cruel to him.

“Get out,” Donghyuck mutters. He tucks himself up with the covers, and then he turns around, giving his back to Johnny. It's a silent way to build a barrier between them, and Johnny wishes he could reach out, but Donghyuck will just scream so that the guards pull him out of the chamber. “I don't want to see you.”

For once, Johnny doesn't want to see Donghyuck either.

The first lesson that Johnny learns that night is that Donghyuck is, indeed, ready to be King.

Donghyuck’s pain is invisible, and just like that, Johnny becomes invisible too. During the coronation event, he’s incapable of looking at Donghyuck at all. He keeps his gaze on the windows, on the gardens and the small lake of the palace, bathed in the moonlight, and ignores the vivid colors of the celebration room.

It’s ironical that Johnny can’t enjoy this, but after spending half of his life by Donghyuck’s side, he realizes that this might be the moment when he’s finally losing him. Donghyuck laughs with the guests, accepts a hundred gifts from other kingdoms, from smaller dynasties and families – from dukes and duchesses, from princes and princesses. He praises the spectacle his own mummers prepared for him, and laughs at the jesters that the Huang Dynasty sent.

Later, when formalities have dimmed out, Donghyuck dances. Johnny doesn’t watch him dance, but he can still see him out of the corner of his eye. Donghyuck never turns anyone down, at least not until Renjun comes around. Once Renjun places his hands on Donghyuck, no one else gets the chance to dance with Donghyuck. Sometimes it’s Renjun who dismisses them, but the majority of it is Donghyuck’s doing; he decides to toss the protocol away and press against Renjun while they dance, even shyly rubbing his cheek over Renjun’s cheek, pretending that he’s whispering into his ear.

Johnny doesn’t want to watch him, but it’s inevitable.

He knows Donghyuck too well to believe that Renjun is more than one of his whims. That’s not a consolation. Donghyuck flirts with Renjun in the open just so that Johnny can see. To remind him his place in the kingdom, to remind him that just because Renjun doesn’t love him and Donghyuck doesn’t love him either, it doesn’t mean Johnny can wrap his hands around Donghyuck and claim him.

It’s that tiny bit of clean, polished manipulation that makes Johnny realize that Donghyuck can do this without him.

“He looks beautiful tonight, doesn’t he?”

Johnny doesn’t answer, but there’s no need to. Minhyung creeps up on him from behind, unprompted, and Johnny only has time to wonder for how long Minhyung has been observing his reactions. Tonight, Minhyung isn’t here as a Commander, but as another prince, and it’s almost ironical to see him in his prince robes, silver and black, when he’s the fieriest soldier of his army. Playing royal games doesn’t fit him, but it’s that flexibility that makes Minhyung powerful.

Johnny tears his gaze away from Donghyuck in time to catch the fond smile in Minhyung’s face.

“It’s so strange to hear that coming from you,” Johnny points out. It’s strange that he’s smiling at his brother, too. It’s been a while.

Minhyung lifts his eyebrows, a bit surprised, and defends himself, “I used to praise him all the time when we were young.”

When Donghyuck was just mischievous and playful, a bit evil but in an innocent way. Now that Donghyuck can control all of them, that he has the authority to put a ban on Minhyung so that he doesn’t work with Johnny, just out of petty jealousy, Donghyuck isn’t that adorable.

Johnny thinks that it’s pretty cute that Minhyung is proud of Donghyuck, despite their relationship. He was raised and trained towards this goal his whole life, so Johnny can understand why this is an important night for Minhyung too.

With a small, unavoidable laugh, Johnny says, “You helped to build that ego of his.”

Not only Minhyung, but also everyone else that babied Donghyuck and overprotected him. Even Johnny has contributed to that, and their fight is proof of how unusual is for Donghyuck to have someone confront him.

“He’s sad,” Minhyung adds. He looks up at Johnny, curious, his smile disappearing. “You can see that, right?”

Donghyuck’s pain is his own pain, and Johnny could never repress it. But it scares him that Minhyung can detect it too, that if even Donghyuck’s feelings are obvious to him, then Johnny must be obvious to everyone.

“What?” Johnny muses, not knowing how to answer.

He stares at Donghyuck, who is laughing out loud at a joke that a duke is telling him, and Johnny marvels at how he has the guts to fake so much happiness. He could opt for presenting as a cold, distant prince, and no one would question him.

“No one else notices, because Donghyuck is too good at this,” Minhyung continues. He squeezes Johnny’s arm, sighs, and caresses Johnny as though a simple touch could fix his problems. “But you and I–”

Minhyung falls silent all of a sudden, and Johnny glances at him in confusion. However, Minhyung isn’t looking at him anymore, just at Donghyuck across the room; it takes Johnny a second to understand what’s happening. The disapproval in Donghyuck’s face at their physical contact, the way Minhyung withdraws his hand like Johnny could burn him, the fierce seriousness in Donghyuck’s expression.

Before Donghyuck can presume that making a scene in his coronation ball is a good idea, Johnny steps back and away from Minhyung. Minhyung is smart enough not to chase him, and Johnny wipes his head to check that he’s indeed walking to the other side of the room, putting the biggest distance possible between Donghyuck and him.

Johnny doesn’t have the tenacity to deal with Donghyuck’s wrath right now, and in a blow of irresponsibility, he strides across the room without looking back. No one pays attention to him when he leaves, bowing to the guards by the doors, but it’s impossible not to notice the pair of eyes nailed into his back.

He doubts that Donghyuck will leave his own ball, so Johnny takes the liberty of breathing in relief in the hall. He instinctively brings his hand to his belt, but his sword isn’t there, because no one but the guards were allowed to bring their swords to the coronation ball.

However, once the tension of Donghyuck’s vigilance is gone, Johnny notices that he’s not alone. There’s a man a few steps away from him, leaning against the wall; the candle light beside him leaves no doubt about his identity. The light of the candle also illuminates the amusement on his face, and only then Johnny is aware of how right he’s been since the beginning: the Huang dynasty is and will always be a menace. Even their youngest prince has the nerve to look at the suffering in a man’s face and smile, well aware that he took part in it, that he’s playing with more than a broken King and his subject.

Johnny doesn’t know when or how Renjun managed to leave the coronation ball alone. His guards aren’t around, and there’s nothing more dangerous for a prince than to be alone in a foreign kingdom. However, Renjun shows no fear, analyzes Johnny’s figure with an air of indulgence that makes Johnny wonder if this boy won’t fight for his own throne against his brothers.

Renjun studies him from head to toe, and then with a derisive smile, he says, “It must be an eastern tradition.”

Perhaps if Johnny wasn’t so soaked in his own feelings, he would catch the warning signs. Yet in front of him he has a prince that fucked Donghyuck last night, and Johnny has to put his whole focus on being respectful – on not provoking a war just out of jealousy, or to get himself killed tonight.

“Your Highness,” he greets Renjun, feeling like a mistreated animal in a cage. Renjun could do whatever he wanted with him too, as long as Donghyuck isn’t there to protect him. “What is the matter?”

“I was just thinking that it must be an eastern tradition, you know?” Renjun sweetly repeats, his grin expanding. But when he speaks again, his tone is different, charged with malice, and his words skewer through Johnny like a knife. “Because even the King fucks like a whore.”

Johnny feels like the hall around them shrinks into a ball. His heart stops beating, but his blood boils, boils until his veins are full of rage and insanity, and he thanks the skies that he doesn’t have his sword right now. His death would be worth just to put a blade through Renjun’s stomach and teach him that no one, under Donghyuck’s roof or in Johnny’s presence, will ever treat Donghyuck with so much disrespect.

But maybe he’s hallucinating. Renjun might be crazy, but even the craziest princes wouldn’t dare to dishonor a King in his own palace.

“What have you just said?” Johnny grunts, stepping forward, not missing how Renjun doesn’t even back away a single inch. He stays in place, as arrogant as before, but Johnny can tell that he doesn’t appreciate how fast Johnny has dropped the honorifics towards him. “I think I might have misheard you.”

Renjun hooks his index finger to signal Johnny to come closer, enjoying the danger. And Johnny obeys, not because he’s disposed to bow to Renjun, but because it will be easier to hurt him. It could be a trap, too, but fury blinds Johnny, and not even for a moment he considers that Huang Renjun might have received a better training than him.

When Johnny takes the last step, Renjun sets a hand against his abdomen. He looks up at him in complete seriousness, but his hand roams over Johnny with different intentions; and it’s then, with this prince toying with him without shame, that Johnny realizes what Renjun wants.

“I said your King fucks like a whore,” Renjun whispers, relishing in every small reaction that Johnny grants him. “Moans like one, too.”

Renjun is just as capricious as Donghyuck. Donghyuck demanded his presence for the coronation ball, chose which prince he wanted to have, but Renjun isn’t better than him. He responded to the call like it was a game, and now that he has gotten into the King’s bed, he wants the next challenge: to get into the bed of the man who looks _only_ at the King. He wants Donghyuck’s love, both the love he gives and the love he receives.

Johnny knows princes like Renjun. They like to break people for power, and Johnny isn’t going to allow him to hurt Donghyuck, no matter how much he craves taking revenge on Donghyuck for how much _he_ has hurt Johnny. It would be an amazing way to get back at him, but Donghyuck’s mistakes have never made Johnny a bad man, and he won’t start now.

In a last effort, Johnny draws away. It’s enough for Renjun to understand that it’s a rejection, but to Johnny’s surprise, Renjun remains calm, his hand still on Johnny’s chest. He’s used to dealing with Donghyuck’s outbursts, and by seeing how indifferent Renjun is at the rejection, Johnny realizes that unlike Renjun, Donghyuck _cares_. That’s the difference.

Renjun’s gaze isn’t on him anymore, however, and it takes Johnny a moment to comprehend what’s happening. “The bastard prince,” Renjun says, looking behind Johnny with a smile. His attention returns to Johnny to point out, “And the fool in love, in tow.”

Johnny swallows the lump in his throat, dares to turn his head to catch a glimpse of Minhyung standing in the hall. He doesn’t know why Minhyung thought it was a good idea to follow Johnny; perhaps he sensed Renjun’s absence, or perhaps he wanted to continue their conversation in private, without Donghyuck’s pressure on them.

That’s not a concern anymore, because Minhyung is staring at Renjun as though he’s disposed to break their alliance out of pride. That’s the reason Johnny doesn’t move: he stays put, like a barrier, so that Minhyung doesn’t have to regret his actions later. And Renjun smirks up at him, smart enough to read his intentions, to take advantage of them.

“You should go back to the ball,” Minhyung tells Johnny, a veiled opportunity for him to escape this situation.

Being a legitimate son, Renjun can rule over Minhyung, but not in Donghyuck’s kingdom. Minhyung can disobey if he wants to, but that doesn’t mean Renjun isn’t going to pull the strings to force that rebellion out of him.

That’s the reason he grabs Johnny’s tunic and challenges, “Sir Johnny is busy. He can’t go back to the ball.”

And he’s right. If Renjun wants to be with him in this hall, Johnny can’t just choose to walk away. Sexual advances are the limit, but Johnny doesn’t have any power beyond that.

“My brother doesn’t joke about these matters, Your Highness,” Minhyung warns him, unashamed, striding through the hall to prove a point.

“His Majesty should have concubines for his guests,” Renjun retorts.

He’s unbothered at how Johnny tenses up, at how Minhyung glares at him for the comment. They've discussed this problem so many times that it's frustrating to have a prince from another kingdom bring it up. Donghyuck doesn't want concubines, neither for him nor the men that serve him. Last time someone mentioned it, Donghyuck screamed that no such disgraceful man would set foot in his palace. Johnny knows why: Minhyung's mother was a concubine, and though Donghyuck now rules over his brother, he can't stand the thought of someone disrespecting Minhyung's mother.

At Minhyung's silence, Renjun licks his lips and says, “It’s not my fault his advisors are the closest thing to concubines in this palace.”

Johnny pales, and so does Minhyung. Renjun isn't conscious of how offensive his words are – for him, like in every other kingdom, concubines are part of the royal life. There's no way Minhyung can punish him for his words without revealing who his mother was, and Johnny knows that he won't.

But there's no need to, because when the doors of the coronation ball open again, Johnny has a hunch. It's a matter of logic: Donghyuck has seen Johnny abandon the room. And just a couple of minutes later, Minhyung has followed suit. Of course Donghyuck wasn't going to let them speak to each other in peace – he had probably assumed the worst, in fact.

Johnny would have never believed that Donghyuck's jealousy would be his salvation, but he supposes that there's a bright side even in the ugliest parts of humanity. Donghyuck's expression progresses from frustration to confusion in a split second, in the time he recognizes Renjun, his hands gripping Johnny's clothes.

His guards are with him, and Johnny recognizes the blinding emotion that crosses his expression as he requests them to close the doors behind him. It's almost an insult that the King himself is leaving his own coronation ball, but Donghyuck doesn't seem to care.

His gaze is fixed on Renjun when he grunts, “Don't touch him.”

Even though Renjun shows complete composure at the order, he makes sure to caress down Johnny's torso before letting go.

“My dear,” he greets Donghyuck, as though they didn’t dance pressed against each other minutes ago. “I was having a nice conversation with your brother and your lover.”

Donghyuck falters at the adjective, but his indignation doesn't subdue. His eyes hunt for Renjun's hand, the one that stroked Johnny, and his jaw clenches.

“It's impolite to leave a coronation ball without the King's permission,” Donghyuck remarks.

And it's marveling how firmly his voice resonates through the hall, a stark contrast to his sincere semblance. The scolding isn’t directed only at Renjun, but at Johnny as well. He might understand why Minhyung left – to make sure that Johnny was fine – but neither Johnny nor Renjun have an excuse for themselves.

It's scary to think how easy it would be to misinterpret Johnny's decisions tonight. As far as Donghyuck knows, Renjun’s hold on him could have been a reciprocal wish.

Donghyuck lifts his chin at Johnny, prideful, and orders, “To my bedchamber.”

Johnny despises _this_. He has protected and loved Donghyuck for so long that the idea of leaving him alone to deal with Renjun's behavior unnerves him. Donghyuck is his own man, and even though Johnny was never superior to him, now he's inferior in all possible senses. Johnny wants to witness how their fight unfurls, to stay there in case Donghyuck needs his help; but that's another lesson tonight: Donghyuck doesn't need his help.

“And you, brother, go back to the ball,” he tells Minhyung. He breathes in for the first time since he crossed the doors, and that's Johnny's cue to relax as well. “Yuta can't represent the army for you.”

Johnny doesn't move until Donghyuck approaches them, a sign of stubbornness that Donghyuck decides to ignore in his favor. But Donghyuck places his hand on Johnny's back, and it’s that subtle push that leaves Johnny no option. Especially in front of Renjun, Johnny can't protest, because it would diminish Donghyuck's authority.

It's physically painful to walk through the hall alone, hearing the silence that expands behind him, knowing how Renjun and Donghyuck are waiting for him to disappear. The moment Johnny turns left at the end of the hall, Renjun's voice cuts through the silence, so clear and certain that Johnny swears he wants to be heard.

“That man will kill for you,” he says, only that, and he’s right.

Somehow, Johnny knows that waiting in Donghyuck’s bedchamber is his punishment.

It’s a punishment for many reasons that have accumulated in the last months, but especially for the last week. For talking down to him, for disobeying and, even if Donghyuck will never admit it, for not giving into his traps.

The difference tonight is that Johnny has reached his limit. He’s had enough of the whispering around the castle, of people laughing at how Donghyuck fucked Renjun without hesitation – at how he supposedly discarded Johnny like waste. He’s had enough of Donghyuck’s jealousy too. Just like Donghyuck is paranoid about Johnny considering his brother a better fit than him, Johnny fears that Donghyuck will stop loving him. It’s an endless circle that Johnny can’t escape, because he loves Donghyuck, but letting Donghyuck love him back would be a disaster.

Donghyuck doesn’t arrive at his chamber soon, not even half an hour later. When Johnny realizes that Donghyuck won’t come until the coronation ball is over, he takes the liberty of lying on his bed. It might madden Donghyuck, but the tension from the ball has reduced Johnny to a mess of nerves, and his last concern is if he's allowed on this bed or not.

That loneliness helps Johnny to calm down, but he has to make an active effort to lose track of time. He can hear the guards talking to each other outside, trying to go unnoticed since they're not allowed to talk while they work. Only when the silence is complete Johnny sharpens his hearing, for it's a sign that a superior is around, but it's not until the tenth time that Donghyuck appears.

Judging how the guards greet him, he's alone. Donghyuck doesn't answer them, an unusual impoliteness in him, and Johnny sits up on the bed before Donghyuck can find him stretched over the mattress.

However, Donghyuck doesn't spare him a glance, as though he has forgotten about him. He takes off his purple cloak, throws it onto the nearest chair and, in silence, strolls around the room. Johnny understands what he's doing when Donghyuck blows the first candle off, a quarter of the room going into darkness, and then moves onto the rest without acknowledging Johnny's presence.

“His Majesty,” Johnny whispers, wary.

Donghyuck doesn't listen to him. The room goes into a deeper darkness, and Johnny blinks several times, trying to get used to the lack of light. The last flame fades away, and Johnny realizes that the moon is hidden behind thick clouds, that darkness is complete. His eyes aren't fast enough at adapting, and the next thing he feels is Donghyuck's perfume, so close that Johnny is grateful Donghyuck can't see his expression. The grip that Donghyuck sets on his shoulders is overwhelming, and so is how fast he mounts Johnny and straddles him, how suddenly Johnny can make out his features in front of him.

It's not the first time Donghyuck shows this behavior, and it won't be the last, but Johnny can't help but vacillate. There's always temptation, that fleeting thought of encircling Donghyuck and kissing him, and battling against it is the hardest part.

“Donghyuck,” Johnny mutters, this time louder in an attempt to bring Donghyuck out of his fantasies.

He blinks again and, at last, Donghyuck's face becomes clear. There's a small frown between his eyebrows, but it's sweet, just out of confusion; the temptation is too strong, and Johnny can’t resist touching Donghyuck's face, cupping his jaw between his hands. The response is immediate: Donghyuck sighs in relief, melting onto his lap, and Johnny has to adjust him so that he falls forward instead of backwards.

“What were you doing to Renjun?” Donghyuck whispers, losing strength with every word. “He's a prince, Johnny, you can't fight him.”

Johnny didn't know what to expect, but definitely not this. He expected fury, arrogance, the Donghyuck that is King; instead he has a boy that needs love, a boy that trusts him and _only_ him. And he realizes that if this is what people talk about when they talk about his weakness, he doesn’t mind. There’s beauty in weakness too.

For him, this is sincerity and familiarity, not the stranger that Donghyuck is becoming. It’s relieving to know that Donghyuck is still there, under the layers of his new self – and it makes Johnny question himself, because maybe he has hidden under his own new layers as well.

“He was disrespecting you,” Johnny answers. That’s enough of a justification for him.

Donghyuck pauses, a demure smile extending on his lips. “I’m aware,” he says. Donghyuck isn’t blind: just like Johnny saw through Renjun, so did Donghyuck. That’s why he’s not accusing Johnny of wanting Renjun; he might have even suspected that Renjun would pursue Johnny sooner or later. “And it's in my hands to punish or to indulge him, not in yours.”

Johnny hasn’t considered that. Even if the punishment for dishonoring a King could be death, Johnny didn’t have the right to execute it. Donghyuck did.

Looking up at Donghyuck’s sweet smile, at the glinting crown perched on his head, Johnny admits, “I’m going insane.”

The last month has felt like an eternity as Donghyuck slipped through his fingers, but he’s here now, on his lap, as if he never was gone. Donghyuck is the reason of his insanity and his sanity, and Johnny could never let go of him.

“Both of us are,” Donghyuck agrees.

His gaze roams over Johnny’s face, with such carefulness that Johnny unconsciously brings him closer. It’s a mistake, and it’s dangerous, because the moment Johnny breathes the same air Donghyuck breathes, there’s no return. He’s hooked in this trap, and Donghyuck stares at him like Johnny will fade into thin air in any moment, clutches on his shoulders as to fixate him in front of him.

It’s that tiny sign of desperation that destroys Johnny’s will. Donghyuck’s thighs tremble around him, and when Johnny caresses down his neck, Donghyuck crumbles down, all tension disappearing.

“Let me have you, even if it’s just for one night,” Donghyuck pleads with him, but he sounds like he’s already accepted defeat. “Let me lie to myself.”

Johnny has battled between truths and lies for half of his life, but he doesn’t have the courage to do it anymore. His duty is to protect the King, but Donghyuck, without love, is unprotected. He asks for one night because he thinks it will satiate the emptiness within him, but Johnny knows – because he feels it too – that his emptiness will never go away.

Perhaps that’s what drives him to curl his fingers in Donghyuck’s clothes, what pushes him to slip a hand under his top, feeling the path of Donghyuck’s spine up to his neck. Donghyuck shivers, sighs at the sudden touch, and when Johnny glances at his expression, he finds pure surprise in his eyes. Surprise, and want.

“Just one night?” Johnny asks in a whisper.

It’s evident that Donghyuck already regrets that promise, but he gives Johnny a subtle nod. Johnny lifts his head to look at him better, the perfect angle for Donghyuck to lean and kiss him, and Johnny gives him a second to decide. Donghyuck doesn’t close the distance, just looks into his eyes and breathes over his lips, and right when Johnny starts to believe that he will break this off, Donghyuck pushes his hips forward.

The guttural noise that Johnny lets out is shameful, but humiliating him is Donghyuck’s aim. He pushes Donghyuck against his mouth just to drown his own noises, and Donghyuck shifts his weight against him once, twice, three times until he’s moaning into his mouth too.

Johnny isn’t invincible; even through their clothing, Donghyuck moves just in the right way to rile him up, and the last of his worries is Donghyuck’s mouth. Donghyuck kisses him like that’s all that matters, but grinds against him like that’s what will keep Johnny with him.

And maybe Renjun is right, maybe Donghyuck fucks like a whore: as soon as Johnny is comfortable and confident on what they’re doing, Donghyuck slides back on his lap to break contact. Johnny’s hands instinctively grab his ass to pull him closer again, and Donghyuck smiles into the kiss, smiles and smiles until they have to part because Donghyuck is laughing.

Johnny doesn’t have time to revel in Donghyuck’s teasing. He lets Donghyuck laugh at him, but he undresses him without a single drop of patience, and by the time Donghyuck licks past his lips again, there’s barely any clothing covering him.

Touching a King is way different than touching anyone else. Donghyuck’s skin is smooth, crafted by years and years of tender care, and there isn’t an inch of his body that isn’t an honor to see, touch and taste. Johnny’s body is the opposite: it’s rough, dry, and he’s covered in small and big scars from fighting since he was ten.

But Donghyuck caresses over his body like he can’t see the scars, shoves Johnny on the bed and slants over him to kiss him again. And if their differences aren’t important for Donghyuck, or the fact that Johnny will never be on his level, Johnny can’t bring himself to care either.

As Donghyuck breaks the kiss and starts pulling at his pants, the scenery changes for Johnny. This isn’t sweet anymore: it’s his chance to fuck Donghyuck, to have him just for tonight, and Johnny isn’t going to waste his time. That’s the reason he tries to grab Donghyuck when he climbs down the bed, and even though Donghyuck lifts his eyebrows at him, it takes Johnny a few seconds to understand that Donghyuck isn’t leaving him.

He feels his whole body burn while he observes Donghyuck, completely naked, search for lubrication. Johnny makes sure to strip himself, throws everything on the floor, not ashamed of how hard he is. He hasn’t touched a man in around two years, because he couldn’t think about anyone but Donghyuck; but also because Donghyuck didn’t _let_ him. He always had a new made up task for him, or would summon him to his chamber just to make sure he didn’t spend the night with another man.

It has unnerved Johnny for years, and there’s no wonder his erection is already brushing against his own abdomen, so swollen that Johnny hisses when he finally fists his own dick. He doesn’t feel truly naked until Donghyuck straightens by the edge of the bed and looks at him. Of course Donghyuck isn’t wired to feel embarrassed around a naked man, especially a man that serves him, but the judgmental gaze that inspects every inch of Johnny’s body has a power that Johnny can barely handle.

Donghyuck looks at how Johnny is jerking himself off, and instead of straddling and kissing him, Donghyuck crawls over the bed and lies on his stomach between Johnny’s legs. The mere brush of Donghyuck’s body On his inner thighs makes Johnny stiffen, but Donghyuck doesn’t take mercy on him. He removes Johnny’s hand and fastens his own hands around his dick, one around the base and the other directly on the head, his thumb pressing on the slit.

Johnny closes his eyes in an attempt to calm down, but Donghyuck doesn’t wait for him. He strokes him slowly, with enough pressure for Johnny to bite his bottom lip, for him not to dare to look into Donghyuck’s eyes. But Donghyuck demands attention, like he always does, and speeds up his rhythm until Johnny is panting, giving into the temptation of watching Donghyuck. Donghyuck’s gaze is already on him, waiting for whatever Johnny has to offer him, and a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips when Johnny lets out a drowned moan.

“Like it?” he whispers, sarcasm in his voice.

Johnny groans in response, because it’s impossible to explain how much he likes Donghyuck’s fingers around his cock, or the subtle evil pout in Donghyuck’s mouth as he strokes him. He doesn’t want to think about how many times Donghyuck has done this to other men, but god, he’s too precise to be a coincidence.

And then Johnny admires Donghyuck for a moment, not just his lips and how close they are to his dick, and realizes Donghyuck is still wearing his silver, pretty crown.

It’s almost a reflex to extend his hand to take it off and say, “Your crown–”

Donghyuck grabs his wrist, thunder in his eyes, and grunts, “Don’t touch the crown.” Perhaps because Donghyuck knows that he looks beautiful with it, or because it’s the only thing that makes him hold power over Johnny in this situation. “I don’t want you to forget who I am.”

Johnny could never. It's already hard enough to forget who Donghyuck is when his guard is down, but having Donghyuck naked and jerking him off just accentuates how dangerous this is. Donghyuck doesn't want him to ignore their reality; maybe to teach him that he can get enjoy it even if he shouldn't, to show him that fucking Donghyuck won’t kill him.

So Johnny obeys Donghyuck, jerks his hand away and caresses Donghyuck's jaw line instead to indulge him. Donghyuck takes that as permission to use his mouth, and before Johnny can stop him, Donghyuck's tongue is lapping over the head of his dick.

Donghyuck is his king, a king that has just been crowned, and Johnny is going to fuck him. He could have fucked him much earlier, as soon as his father died, and Johnny has been a fool for not surrendering to the self–destruction Donghyuck was offering him.

Donghyuck doesn't try to please him, that's pretty evident by the way he sucks on his dick. He loosens his hands around his length, and though he tries to replace it with his mouth, Donghyuck goes soft on him. Johnny is too weak even for this: Donghyuck is just putting a show for him, not to make him come, and it gets on his nerves. He enjoys teasing, but he also enjoy how shattered Johnny is just by watching him – because he knows he’s pretty, and he knows he can make a man come like this.

Carefully, Johnny's fingers tap over Donghyuck's neck, reaching out for his nape. Donghyuck licks a stripe up his dick, but he's too smart not to catch on what Johnny is trying to do, and the smirk that blooms on his lips is more evil than mischievous. Just one significant glance thrown at him, and Johnny is burning all over, caught red-handed.

He croaks out, “I don’t want this. I want–”

He wants so many things at all once that his mind is fuzzy, that he can't process Donghyuck's teasing. But Donghyuck isn't going to allow him to grab his head and fuck into his mouth, and if he does, he's going to make Johnny beg for it first. Johnny can barely speak right now, and less to beg, so he throws his head back on the mattress with a desperate groan.

“What do you want?” Donghyuck sing songs, slightly amused. He uses the middle of his thumb to rub against the most sensitive part of Johnny's dick, and Johnny blacks out for a second, overwhelmed by the whipping of pleasure that rips through him. When he blinks at Donghyuck, he finds joy in his expression, almost wonder at how well that worked. “Do you think this is about what _you_ want?”

It has never been, or he wouldn't be here in the first place. Johnny has chosen his duties over Donghyuck's body a thousand times, and for once, they're playing the game Donghyuck wanted to play. Johnny should have followed his whims earlier.

But beyond this, Johnny doesn't know what Donghyuck wants from him. He can't tell either as Donghyuck rises, as he climbs on him like a little lion disposed to bite him. And he bites after all, except his mouth feels better against Johnny's tongue than between his legs, and Johnny grips onto his waist without fearing a scolding. Donghyuck indulges the desperation Johnny grips him with, lets him feel how it’s like to have the power for once, because he can, because Donghyuck shouldn't have all the power in bed too. It indeed gives him the false sensation that he can rule over Donghyuck, starting by clutching his crown and smashing into pieces on the floor, but Donghyuck's kisses are too perfect for Johnny to care about that. It doesn’t matter that Donghyuck is his King as long as he belongs to him here.

Perhaps because Donghyuck presses against his boner, the first words that leave Johnny's mouth when they part are a weak, “Please, let me be inside you.”

Donghyuck looks a bit surprised at that, as though Johnny isn't supposed to ask first. But it's almost a habit to ask for permission, and Johnny doesn't want to scare Donghyuck with his impatience.

Donghyuck sits up on him, stroking down his chest, a different shade of interest painting his semblance. If Johnny felt emotionally naked before, that was nothing compared to this. He’s naked in all the possible ways, and Donghyuck feed off that.

“You’re so kind,” he says, voice brimming with fondness, He breathes in to gather his own courage, and Johnny feels him hesitate for a split second. “Always so nice, always so polite, such a good man.”

“Donghyuck–”

Donghyuck brings his hand to his neck, not as a threat, but as a signal for him to shut up. Johnny closes his mouth, because he doesn't need to speak against him, and because Donghyuck looks incredibly pretty when he's powerful. Johnny has been trained to detect the small changes in Donghyuck's mood, and overall to detect if he's dangerous.

And Donghyuck sounds terrifying when he whispers, “But you're mine, do you hear me?”

“I do,” Johnny replies right away. Then, against all odds, he rises despite Donghyuck's pressure on his neck. Johnny is scared, but so is Donghyuck, fearing that Johnny is rebelling at last. If he tried to reject Donghyuck now, Donghyuck would break into pieces, but it wouldn’t be a surprise. That's far from the truth, because Johnny just encircles his body, presses a kiss to Donghyuck's lips and assures, “I am.”

Donghyuck lets out a satisfied sigh, and the next thing Johnny knows is that Donghyuck is rolling on his side, pulling him along. Donghyuck’s touches are too distracting, and Johnny doesn’t care if Donghyuck wants to be on top or under him; Johnny strokes all of him, making sure that there won’t be any part of Donghyuck that he hasn’t tasted after tonight, and Donghyuck lets him, his back pressed on the mattress, soft huffs of air escaping when Johnny kisses down his neck.

Though Johnny doesn’t have permission, he leaves a few marks along Donghyuck’s neck; Donghyuck gasps every time with a mixture of confusion and comfort, but he doesn’t protest. It’s the perfect excuse to keep Donghyuck distracted while Johnny covers his thighs and ass with the lubricant, though he doubts Donghyuck needs distractions.

He spreads his legs so willingly for him that Johnny falters, that it’s too much for Johnny to manage. Donghyuck is better at this than him; he lubes Johnny’s fingers up and down and guides Johnny to finger him, encouraging him when he notices he’s being too careful. It’s hard for Johnny to remember that Donghyuck is far from a virgin, that he doesn’t need to be treated with excessive tenderness, until he slips one finger inside him and Donghyuck’s only reaction is biting on Johnny’s lower lip.

Donghyuck is impatient, and side to side, he hooks his leg over Johnny’s hips, giving more space to stretch him. He grinds against Johnny’s fingers, demands more, and Johnny has to set his free hand on Donghyuck’s waist to stop him.

“I want to prepare you well,” Johnny tells him, as if his excuse can subdue Donghyuck’s impatience.

“I don't need it,” Donghyuck retorts with a petulancy that almost makes Johnny laugh. He might be right, but Johnny still needs to use all that lube inside him, so he pushes a second finger into his ass. Donghyuck merely startles, and then searches for Johnny’s mouth to press a kiss. “I want to feel how your cock stretches me.”

Johnny needs a moment to breathe, because the simple idea of forcing his dick into Donghyuck’s tightness destabilizes him. He can’t conceal his sudden tension, and Donghyuck’s hold on him becomes firmer, his lips kissing along Johnny’s jaw, warm, wet, and terribly convincing.

“Fuck me like that,” Donghyuck muses into his ear, stroking Johnny’s hair. “And I won’t let any other man touch me ever again.”

Whether it’s a promise or a lie, Johnny can’t win over it. He casts off all his pride, all the reticence he’s ever had towards making Donghyuck his, and pulls his fingers out in one stroke. This time, Donghyuck gasps at the feeling, but he forgets about it when Johnny shoves him on his back and grabs his legs.

Despite the harshness Johnny moves with, Donghyuck understands him. He spreads his legs for him again, exhales a trembling breath when Johnny rubs the head of his dick against his entrance, but he’s not less impatient than before.

Thrusting into Donghyuck is equally breathtaking for the both of them. And it’s odd that among all the pleasure, the first clear thing Johnny feels is relief. Relief for being inside Donghyuck, because it has return now, and because Johnny doesn’t have to fear this anymore.

Donghyuck shudders under him, eyes closed, his hands fisting the sheets at his sides. His crown has fallen on the mattress at last, but he’s not paying attention to the lost weight of his crown anymore. Johnny thrusts into him again, thinking that Donghyuck looks pretty with his crown, but he looks even prettier with nothing on him – and Donghyuck blinks up at him, arching his back as he’s stretched, and makes a small noise of pain, of pleasure, of surprise.

“Come here,” Johnny groans, hooking his fingers in Donghyuck’s hair.

Their hips meet at the same time their lips do, and Johnny feels the rumbling of Donghyuck’s body through him, every tremor of his muscles. He’s tight, warm and sweet, and for sure he doesn’t fuck like a whore. Maybe because Johnny is different to him, or just because Johnny actually loves him. Every snap of his hips connects them closer, and Donghyuck dares to hold onto him, dares to wrap his legs around his hips to guide Johnny deeper.

Johnny isn’t embarrassed of his own behavior. Donghyuck feels too good to care about anything else, and even if every push is rougher, clumsier, his shame dissolves in Donghyuck’s body. When Donghyuck’s panting becomes moaning, that’s all Johnny wants to hear; Donghyuck likes it when Johnny goes deep, when he stays there for a moment before pulling back, and Johnny reveals in the fluttering of his eyelashes, in how he tries to understand his own pleasure.

It’s strangely intimate to let Donghyuck know how desperate Johnny is for him, but Donghyuck is just as desperate. He clings onto him, moaning his name into messy kisses that make Johnny laugh. And Johnny enjoys every bit of it, Donghyuck’s teeth scrapping all over his lips, his jaw, how sweet his moans are, sweeter than his voice, his gaze and even his body.

Johnny doesn’t know when he starts panting, when his thrusts become slams and Donghyuck has to tighten his hold to keep them together. All he knows is that the moment Donghyuck looks into his eyes again, he’s gone, and Donghyuck is just as gone. He can’t believe he’s between Donghyuck’s legs, that he feels this good, that he doesn’t fuck like a whore because he just needs Johnny’s touch to make love instead.

Johnny only needs a few words to make Donghyuck come for him. He just whispers how beautiful he is, that he belongs to him now and no one else is allowed to touch the king, and Donghyuck vibrates all over, coming over his own stomach. He doesn’t lose his strength, however, because he encircles Johnny’s head and brings him into a kiss.

It’s not that what sends Johnny to his edge, but the glint in Donghyuck’s eyes, in the sincerity of his voice when he says, “You're my King.”

Johnny is no one, but he’s the most important person to Donghyuck. He slams into Donghyuck one last time, hips stuttering, and then he collapses over Donghyuck. His orgasm goes away in interminable waves, but Donghyuck is still coming down from his high, and he holds Johnny so that he stays with him, afraid that he will leave.

Because Renjun didn’t stay, and Donghyuck would never want any man to stay anyway, but Johnny is the only exception. After a whole life dedicated to Donghyuck, there isn’t anywhere Johnny wants to go. He’s in the wrong place, in the wrong moment, and Donghyuck is his best mistake.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/renjucas)   
>  [Curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/berryboys)   
> 


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